Tourniquet
by Lady Obsidian
Summary: New: Harry Potter’s life has gone in a downward spiral after the events at the Ministry. It is the summer after fifth year and he is back at the Dursley’s with wounds of every sort. But he wants something; he just hasn’t figured that part out yet. S
1. Author's Note

Important Author's note: Okay, so I got bored one night and went back through my story. I decided to combine several chapters because logically it makes more sense to the plot progression I have worked out in my mind. I redid a bunch of things. If you have already started reading Tourniquet, please go back and reread because chances are that I've add elements to the ends of chapters. Thanks and a huge thanks to the reviewers. You have no idea how much it means to me. 


	2. The Letter and Reply

Tourniquet: by Lady Obsidian PG-13 (just to be safe)  
  
Spoilers: Books 1-5 (Don't read this unless you have read OotP)  
  
Summary: Harry Potter's life has gone in a downward spiral after the events at the Ministry. It is the summer after fifth year and he is back at the Dursley's with wounds of every sort. But he wants something; he just hasn't figured that part out yet.  
  
A/N: I sadly don't own any of the HP characters I have blatantly stolen and slandered the character identities of, except for Tora and her mother that I shall be introducing later. But I had fun doing it, and I am as penniless as when I started this. Reviews and flames are welcome, but if you do chose to flame my story, leave your name, don't be a spineless coward with no valor. And if this story seems familiar, it is. I wrote this and then began posting it under my beta's account as The Letters. But now I am posting it under my own account and decided to change the title when I reposted it.  
  
~ "Quotations denotes speech", 'single quotes' denote thoughts. ~  
  
Chapter 1: The Letter & Reply  
  
A lone teenage boy of sixteen with a messy mop of black hair and glasses sat on a hilltop all alone. Below him, an empty park sat with rusted swings and old rickety slides. An old rusted merry-go-round sat at the centre of the antique park lopsided and dented from time and generations of laughing children. Harry discovered the park last summer holiday in an effort to escape from the Dursley's. Evidently, Dudley and his little gang missed the small park in their ravaging ways. Harry found himself at this site wanting solitude. The feelings of being utterly alone had plagued him ever since Sirius' death. It was as though a huge hole had been ripped into his life and nothing seemed to fill that empty space; not even his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. That was the reason he, the boy-who- lived, was sitting at the top of a hill, alone. It mimicked how his life was isolated and alone.  
  
At the end of the term, Harry had been more than reluctant to leave school. The thought of spending yet another abysmal summer with the Dursleys was enough to send his stomach churning. Dumbledore had reassured Harry that it was only for a month's time; then he was free to go spend the rest of the summer holidays at the Burrow with Ron. The more he thought of leaving for the Burrow, the more he did not want to go there. They would all tread lightly around him, he knew it was a given even though they meant well. They made him feel as if he was made of glass, and he hated that. He wasn't going to break, really he wasn't. Harry just wanted to be treated like a normal person. Like before. Now everything changed. He wasn't too fond of the change that was for sure. He just wanted one person, just one, to treat him like he was human, not some china doll. Even the Headmaster was overprotective of him.  
  
Harry sighed in frustration, and pushed his damp hair off his forehead. He really wasn't asking all that much, was he? "Somebody, please help me," he muttered darkly.  
  
Suddenly a huge, black owl swooped down and landed on a patch of green grass next to him. He reached out and stroked the owl's head. He didn't recognize it one bit. Who would own an owl like this? No one he knew short of Malfoy, but surely, Malfoy wouldn't waste his precious time to write a letter to Harry. The owl held out its leg to Harry. Taking the rolled parchment off, he stroked the owl again.  
  
"You sure are a beautiful owl. I'm sorry, but I don't have any food or anything to give you," he whispered sincerely. The black owl hooted and jumped onto Harry's shoulder. Harry chuckled, and the owl nipped his ear playfully. "Hey!" Harry laughed. But the huge owl launched itself in to the air and was gone, just as quickly as it had appeared.  
  
'Well, that was certainly weird.' Harry got up and started the walk back to the Dursleys. His aunt and uncle had taken Dudley somewhere. He didn't really care where; it was just nice to have them gone. He walked up the stairs to his room and shut the door tightly behind him and locked it out of habit.  
  
He sauntered over to his desk and laid the parchment down. Hedwig fluttered down from the dresser top and perched off to one side. Waiting, it seemed for Harry to read and then write a reply.  
  
"Okay, now we find out who wrote this letter," Harry told Hedwig excitedly. Unrolling the letter, he saw a beautiful script covering the entire scroll. The letter read:  
  
Dear Harry Potter: It is with my deepest regret and deepest sorrow that I pen this letter to you. I am so sorry for your loss. You must feel isolated, alone and hopeless. You must also feel like nobody understands the way you feel inside. The rage boiling within you, the anger simmering beneath the surface, the betrayal you feel deep within you, and even the guilt tearing at you from every side. Sirius was more than just your godfather, Harry. He was your friend, mentor, and even a father of sorts. I knew him very well. He was like a father to me, too. I know he must have never mentioned me to you but he has mentioned you to me. He was so proud of you Harry, surely you must know that. I wanted to write this letter to you in hopes of you responding. I'm in desperate need of a friend who understands the way I feel. The lost of Sirius devastates me. I think this must be the same for you. My owl will stay with you until you decide if you want to write or not. Her name is Tempest, and she was a gift from Sirius. She will know where to find me, if you choose to write, and I sincerely hope that you will. Sincerely, Tora Galloway  
  
Harry finished reading the letter and looked out the window. Sure enough, there was Tempest, perched out on the sill. Harry let her inside and gave her a cracker from his side table and a small saucer of water. He went over to his trunk and rummaged around until he fished out his quills and his spare parchment. Someone had answered his prayers...  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Harry sat at his desk with Hedwig and Tempest. He lifted his quill and poised it over the parchment and scrolled:  
  
Dear Tora Galloway,  
  
Then he stopped. How was he to respond? What should he say? What to tell her? He twirled the quill between his fingers and thought. She seemed to know him. This Tora Galloway seemed to know the barrage of emotions boiling inside of him. She knew what Hermione and Ron did not. She understood what they could not.  
  
Hadn't she said Sirius had talked about him? What had his godfather told this girl? And when had he seen her? He was supposed to be in hiding at the Grimmauld place, he wasn't allowed visitors was he? Or had Dumbledore bent the rules for him? Sirius had been there by himself for a long time. He certainly deserved some company.  
  
'Bloody hell' he thought. He rubbed his forehead; it ached horribly but not from his scar. That hadn't hurt for ages. The thoughts raced and spun at an unfathomable speed. Setting his quill down, he saw the hands of the clock positioned to the three and the twelve; Uncle Vernon would soon be home. He had to hurry, if only he could think. Could he just tell her the truth? Or would that seem too callous? He decided to try for it, and see how it turned out.  
  
Dear Tora Galloway,  
How is it that you know me? I do not mean to sound rude or anything, but how? I have been hoping and praying for someone who understands. And then suddenly to receive an owl with a letter addressed to me from someone who seems to understand everything going on inside of me when even I don't seem to understand it at all seems like a dream.  
As absurd as this maybe, I feel as if I know you. Even though I know, I'm positive I have never met you. These things you know, how do you know them? Not even two of my closest friends know these things, these emotions. But they would never understand ever, even if I could express them properly to them. Please help me through this. I do not know where to turn; don't know where to go or who to talk to. I feel like I'm at the end of my road.  
Sincerely,  
Harry Potter  
  
He let the parchment dry and reread it. He reached for Tempest and tied the letter to her leg. She flew from the windowsill and was gone from sight in seconds. Now all he had to do was wait for a reply. 


	3. The Girl

Chapter 2: The Girl  
  
Tora Galloway ambled up the lush, green hill overlooking a shimmering blue crystalline lake. It was her favorite spot resting on the backside of her family's estate. She sat down at the top, hugging her knees to her chest. A light breeze teased her loose ebony hair, tugging it this way and that. Tora shifted her blank stare from the lake in front of her to behind her shoulder. Her eyes rested on a woman sitting on the porch swing, with a picture in hands.  
  
Her mother. Tora heaved a sigh. Her mother would never be the same woman again. From the hill, Tora studied her mother. She had long, raven hair much like her own. However, her mother had eyes of the purest sapphire blue instead of Tora's molten silver ones. She remembered her mother once telling her she had her father's eyes. Tears started to well up in her eyes as she thought of her absent father. She brushed away the tears that had escaped her eyelids, and focused on her mother again. Even from this distance, she knew her mother's eyes no longer sparkled. The light in her eyes that once had shinned so brightly from her soul was now gone— snuffed out like a useless taper. Tora recalled the day that her mother received the devastating news.  
  
~Flashback ~  
Tora awoke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding out a painful rhythm from a malicious nightmare. She recalled only a few things about the dream, death and a voice screaming out again and again. She watched as Sirius Black fell behind a mysterious veil of some sort, but he did not appear on the other side. Then she had heard a boy's voice echoing throughout the stone room as he bellowed at the top of his lungs, "SIRIUS—IS—NOT—DEAD!!!" The voice reverberated inside her head, and made her ears ring. Tora knew that she would carry that sound inside her for the rest of her days.  
  
She rolled out of bed and glanced at the clock. 3:15 A.M. 'Great' she thought. She walked to her bathroom and washed her face with cool water. She looked out her window and twisted her hair into a messy bun, lost deep in thought. An ear piercing sound reached her ears. The eerie sound etched itself into her soul for keeping. Tora bounded down the halls and raced on until she reached the downstairs parlor. Her heart stopped at what she saw before her.  
  
Her mother was on her knees, screaming denials with tears flowing down her pale face. A man with gray streaked hair knelt next to her, cradling her in his arms, rocking her back and forth.  
  
"What happened? Who are you and what's wrong with my mother?" Tora demanded. The man looked up with grief stricken eyes. Her icy silver gaze pinned the unknown man's. The man sighed; the girl's distrust was evident in her eyes. He shivered under her gaze. The man lifted Brenda Galloway off the floor and put his arms around her shoulders.  
  
"Tora, your father's—dead," the man choked around the words. Tora stared back at the man; her nightmare had been true. Bile rose to her mouth and she shook her head to dispel the feeling of unreality. But Tora knew it was true, she remembered the terrible nightmare, which must have been a sign. Wrestling her emotions back into her subconscious, she turned on the man with a stoic façade.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded again, but this time with a voice devoid of even the bare hints of emotion.  
  
"My name is Remus Lupin, and I am a very close friend of your parents. Your father was one of my best friends," the man replied.  
  
"You were one of the Marauders." Remus stared hard at the girl standing before him. How long had it been since he had last seen her? Her father had always described her in the most loving and proud tones. Tora was there before him now, with her features schooled into nothing. 'Give nothing away, and they can't hurt you.' The odd phrase flitted through his mind as he locked himself into a stare-down with his best friend's daughter. Who had said that phrase? Had James said that? No, it couldn't have been him. Well, then it had to have been...Remus smiled inside at the irony of his discovery.  
  
"Yes, I was. I'm sorry for your loss, Tora, believe me. I know that he wrote you a letter but you won't get it until you start school again. This time at a different school," Remus spoke sincerely; there was nothing outright deceptive about this man. Tora relaxed slightly, but was still on edge underneath. ~End Flashback~  
  
Tora shook herself out of her reverie. She stood up and stretched, her muscles tense after sitting still for so long. A movement down by the house caught her eye. A man appeared in front of her mother. Tora shook her head with a shudder. 'The valiant Remus Lupin has returned' she thought and started the long return back to the house.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
When Tora arrived at the house, she noticed Remus Lupin had not arrived alone. The other aged wizard with him was talking in hushed tones with her mother, Brenda. The wizard had a long white beard, long white hair, and twinkling blue eyes. Tora rested her hip against the doorframe, crossed her arms over her chest, and watched her mother through hooded eyes. Her mother no longer seemed remote. The woman was actually carrying on a decent and lengthy conversation with the older man, from the looks of it. Inside, Tora was partly relieved; she had grown tired of all the one-sided talks she had struggled through.  
  
Those insufferable conversations had been the motivation that started all the letters to Harry Potter. At least he answered her questions and replied with more than a one-word answer. The two had corresponded all summer long. Tora stowed her stack of at least 25 letters in the safety of her desk, hidden in the one place she knew the house elves wouldn't clean without permission. She was going to reply to his most recent letter today, giving Tempest a break from all the flying. The bird had incredible stamina. The trips from London to America were not easy or short by any means. This would be her final letter to Harry before school started. Ugh, school. How she loathed school, especially the one she was attending now. It was so awful. She cringed every time she thought of it. There were only two more days left of summer.  
  
In one of Harry's letters, he had described the school he was going to, Hogwarts. Harry spoke with such love and warmth when he described Hogwarts. Her mother and father had gone to the same school. Tora longed to go there. Anything was better than the school she was currently attending. The teachers were horrendous, and surely, none of them were fit to teach students. The teachers were beyond hope. There was something dreadfully wrong when the students knew more than every teacher there. At St. Gabriel's Institute for Magicks, there was no order, no discipline, but it was the only Wizarding School in America. The whole school was a joke really, and a very bad one at that.  
  
"Tora," Remus whispered from behind her. She cocked her head towards his voice but didn't turn around to face him.  
  
"Why are you here?" she asked coldly. She still distrusted Remus Lupin. The fact he was a werewolf didn't even faze her; it was something else.  
  
"You'll find out soon enough. Why do you distrust me so?" Remus questioned. Tora heaved a sigh.  
  
"It's not because you're a werewolf, I can tell you that much," she informed him.  
  
"What?" he whispered in disbelief. 'No one's told her what I am; I know that. How could she know?' "How did you know that?"  
  
Tora shrugged. "It's obvious."  
  
"Obvious?" he repeated dumbly. 'Bloody Hell, doesn't this girl ever lose her composure?' he thought.  
  
"Funny, I hadn't pegged you as a parrot, too."  
  
Remus shook his head and felt a smile start to tug at his lips. "I'm not. It's just it isn't often that I have someone, who is as indifferent as you are figure out I'm a werewolf. Most people cringe and cower, but you're just standing there, like it's no big deal."  
  
"It's not a big deal, and I'm not most people. You are what you are and you can't change that," she stated emotionlessly.  
  
"Fair enough. Then may I ask, why it is that you distrust me so much?"  
  
"You can ask, but I won't answer. So it would be better not to ask at all." Tora kept her back to him throughout the whole exchange, and he never made any movement to stand in front of her. Remus could see well enough from his vantage point to know that she had slipped on her stoic mask again. That mask scared the hell out of him. It seemed to come so naturally to her too. Was she as jaded as she seemed or was there more than one reason behind the indifference?  
  
"So are we going to continue playing twenty questions, or are you going to leave me alone?" Tora raised her eyebrow at him. He had the distinct feeling that royalty had just dismissed him. He brushed past her and moved to where the other two sat.  
  
"Ah, Brenda. Is this your daughter?" The older wizard acknowledged her finally. Tora looked at him, and out of the corner of her eye, Tora saw her mother's broad smile.  
  
"Yes, this is Tora. She's sixteen," her mother responded. "Tora, darling, this is Professor Dumbledore."  
  
'Dumbledore? Where have I heard that name?' Tora thought, then it dawned on her, 'Of course, from Harry.'  
  
"He is the headmaster of Hogwarts." Her mother smiled fondly at Dumbledore.  
  
"Hello," Tora said politely as she shook the extended hand.  
  
"Hello, Tora. I don't know if your mother has told you yet or not, but you're being transferred to Hogwarts for school," Professor Dumbledore said kindly.  
  
"Really? No, well, my mother didn't tell me. It seems she didn't deem it important enough to inform me. When will I be leaving?" Tora spoke in civil tones, but no one could mistake the coolness lying beyond the surface.  
  
However, Dumbledore just smiled at the girl. "Tonight would be the best for traveling. That is, if you could have your things packed by then?" he offered.  
  
"I can be packed in twenty minutes, if you would prefer that," she responded.  
  
"That is even better." With that said, Tora headed for the stairway and stared to go up when she heard bits of the conversation from the parlor.  
  
"How has Harry been?" Brenda asked quietly.  
  
"Ah, yes. Harry hasn't been handling this at all like I had hoped, but he is much better it seems with the Weasley's than with the Dursley's."  
  
"I think anyone would be," Remus retorted. Tora paused, straining to hear more, but none of it concerned Harry anymore. She trudged up the stairs and began packing her things.  
  
"Tora, darling, come on!" her mother called up to her exactly twenty minutes later.  
  
"Coming, Mother!" Tora yelled back as she reached into her drawer for her letters. "Oh no! I forgot! Geez, I guess I'll write to him from England. Tempest won't have to fly as far then."  
  
Tora charmed her trunks and then bounded down the stairs after them. Then with a gigantic pop, they all vanished. 


	4. Little Secrets

Chapter 3: Little Secrets  
  
Tora stood in awe of the new manor located in Muggle London. This new manor was easily three times grander and more sophisticated than the Old Raven's Manor in America. She walked over to the spiral staircase and felt the cold smoothness of the black marble underneath her fingers. The entire house bespoke of coldness and a sterility that sent shivers down her spine. The house seemed impersonal and barren. No lights or lamps sat in any of the rooms, nor pictures on the walls. The walls themselves were about thirteen or possibly fifteen feet high with vaulted ceilings, adding a cavernous feel to the rooms. The furnishings were sparse, and if they existed at all, they had a military style. All sleek, straight and cold harsh lines, no curves or cushions, nor any sign of elegance. There were barely any windows at all, only small little ones scattered throughout the house. Dumbledore had informed them there were four floors to the house and fifteen rooms to each floor. There were bedrooms located on the second and fourth floors, each with conjoined baths. A foreboding shadow lurked within the walls, making her wonder who had lived in the manor before. Tora didn't like this house. The familiarly of the old house was uncanny. A nagging sense in the back of her mind mad her uneasy.  
  
Turning around, Tora noticed a small black table pushed against the wall in the foyer. On the top writing materials lay scattered, including a new quill, a full bottle of black ink, and a fresh roll of parchment. They seemed to be just waiting for someone to come and pick them up for use.  
  
'Harry.' His named popped into her head as she stood before the table. She might as well write to him now before she went up to her room, before she became distracted again. She had so much to tell him. Lifting the quill, she began to quickly pen a letter to him. The scratching of quill on parchment filled the room. She reread it again before she sealed it and scrawled his name on the front.  
  
Tora let Tempest out of the gilded cage and waited with parchment in hand, as the black owl stretched its great wings.  
  
"Hey beautiful," Tora whispered to Tempest, stroking her owl fondly. "Are you up to delivering another letter to Harry?" A soft hoot come from the owl, an agreement that had Tora smiling broadly. "Fantastic! I think that Harry's gone to a place called the Burrow now. Do you think you can find it?" she asked as she tied the letter to Tempest's outstretched leg. The owl nibbled Tora's fingertip affectionately. "All right then." The door was opened and Tempest took off into the sky.  
  
Closing the door behind her, Tora heard steady footfalls on the overhanging balcony above her. She strolled into the middle of the foyer and looked up to see Remus Lupin resting his forearms on the rail of the balcony. He was looking down at her curiously. She scowled and cocked her eyebrow, then waited in a heavy silence for him to say something.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly. After seeing her with the owl, he knew that she wasn't completely devoid of emotions as she acted.  
  
"Not that it's any of your business, but I was writing a letter to a friend," Tora replied. "I don't think it's a crime yet, is it?"  
  
Lupin smiled at her cheekiness. "No, that's not a crime. Come up here. Your mother wants you to chose a room for your own."  
  
"Fine. I'll be right up there, your 'majesty'," she mumbled, and levitated her things. She waited until Lupin disappeared from sight before she started up the stairs. She climbed the stairs slowly, taking as much time as possible to make her way up to the fourth floor where she already planned on staking out a room as her own.  
  
She liked the highness of the room since it was on the top floor plus she could see all the property from her windows. There were two bay windows sitting adjacent to each other. It was the coziest room she had seen so far in the entire manor. The walls were painted a cool, light purple hue. The gauzy bed drapes complimented the wall color, as did the fabric of a large reading chair in the corner. A large four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, pilled high with pillows. All the furniture in the room was made of expensive cherry wood; the bureau, the armoire, the chairs and tables, and the hard wood flooring and the other woodworking. Though there weren't any flowers visible in the room that Tora saw, the room smelled strangely of lilacs.  
  
Walking over to one of the windows, she gazed out. Fiery oranges and reds painted the sky as the sun descended for the night. A forest stood off to the east, and a large, artistically designed garden lay off to the west. The forest held the most appeal, she wanted to go out for a run, just be free for a while. She decided that she would go explore the new grounds for a moment or two.  
  
Setting her stuff down, she walked back down to the second floor with the intent of telling her mother she was going out. She heard the muffled murmur of voices as she came closer to the room she knew her mother had taken. The door was open ajar, giving away just hints of who occupied the room. Remus Lupin stood in her 'mother's' room behind a closed door. The thought didn't bode well in her mind. She crept closer, trying to hear bits of the conversation. It was a hard job though; they were using such low voices.  
  
A white envelope caught her eye. It stood out boldly against the black marble. Scrawled on the front of the envelope was her name. She picked it up and was about to open it when she heard her name spoken from inside, her mother's voice sounded distraught. She leaned in closer, straining to hear what the soft angry voices were saying.  
  
"Remus! Tora has a right to know! He was—"  
  
"No, Brenda. No. I'm sorry but Albus doesn't want her to know yet. I think he wants to tell her more about it than you could. Trust him, Brenda, please. He knows what he's doing. I know you are her mother but I think Albus knows your husband's reasons for leaving so abruptly."  
  
"Does he? Remus, she's my baby girl. How can I keep this from her? I want to protect her, but she still has a right to know the truth! She deserves at least that much doesn't she?"  
  
"I know she does. You know that too. She's an amazing girl. He would have been so proud of her. He was proud of her, Brenda. I know he was. Please just give it a little time. Why don't you take Tora shopping tomorrow in Diagon Alley for her school supplies? Here's the list of what she'll need. And for god's sake woman, get some rest. I don't want you to see you destroy yourself when Tora needs you the most, when *I* need you the most."  
  
"Remus, I—" There was a deafening silence that ensued. Tora leaned forward gingerly, peeking through the crack in the door. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw what was transpiring. A blood-red rage filled her as she backed away from the room. Her limbs trembled with suppressed fury. She remembered a time once long ago when she had felt like this. Images flashed in her mind like pictures in a slideshow. She ran down the stairs with the purest rage clouding her mind. The front door was torn open, slammed against the wall and Tora ran as fast as she could to leave the manor as far in the distance as possible.  
  
'How could she do this to me?' The litany was repeated over in her mind. Once she reached the forest edge, she lost all conscious thought and let her whirling emotions take control.  
  
~Back in the manor~  
  
"Tora!" Brenda called after emerging from her room with Remus at her side. Their clothing was slightly rumpled and their hair was messy and in a wild disarray. Only a blind man wouldn't recognize the signs of what they had been doing together. What they had together was wrong, it has always been wrong. They felt no guilt in what they were doing, even though sense and logic dictated that they should. Nothing could ever make it right.  
  
"Tora? Tora, honey, please come here." Her mother called again and was greeted by an eerie silence. Brenda looked at Remus nervously. He shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"I don't know. She took the room up on the fourth floor. We could go check. But I have to go see Harry soon." Brenda nodded and they walked up to her daughter's room hand in hand.  
  
"Tora?" her mother called softly as they approached her door. They walk it to find her trunk in the middle of the floor. Her cloak was draped across the reading chair in the corner. Each walked over to one of the windows and looked out. They saw no sign of Tora. "Remus? Where is she?" Brenda's voice was laden with concern.  
  
"I don't know. She would have heard you call from the second floor if she was in the house. Maybe she went outside for some fresh air." He assured her, trying to offer the woman some sort of comfort.  
  
"She would have told me. She always has. Oh, Remus I don't know what to do with her. She's been acting so differently since he died. I think I've lost all control with her. She isn't the same anymore. She seems so aloof and cold. She has never acted like this ever. I just don't know what happened to her. She's not my little girl anymore." Brenda dissolved into tears and broken sobs. Remus put his arms around her and held her close. He whispered soft words of reassurance and comfort.  
  
"Let's go look outside for her. If we still can't find her then we'll contact Albus." To this Brenda nodded her head and went to search the grounds with Remus. Twenty minutes later, they met back inside and searched the entire house from top to bottom.  
  
"She's not here!" Brenda wailed.  
  
"Brenda, I'm going to the Burrow. That's where Albus is." He pressed a kiss on her forehead and then apparated to the Burrow with a loud pop.  
  
"Oh, Tora. Where are you?" Brenda whispered as she gazed out the window with unseeing eyes. 


End file.
